You Ready?
by AniraAi
Summary: Vampiric Nature based off Vampire Knight. Does not actually include any VP characters. A simple short on cutting, inspired by a bloody music video.


**You Ready?  
**_By J. Anira_

Rated for blood and cutting

* * *

"You ready?" she asked him, as she poised the blade over her wrist.

"Yeah," he smiled grimly while keeping his eyes trained on her forearm. He wanted to see that first swell of ruby liquid as she pressed the blade to her shaded skin.

He heard the intake of breath through her nose just before she lowered the edge to her wrist, a couple inches away from her palm, avoiding the vital vein that would kill her in less than a minute if cut. That was part of why this was so exciting, and so effective; one put their life on the line when doing this, thus all emotions disappeared in the one breathless moment the skin was sliced to reveal blood, glorious and glowing, the life drink. She was making it even more life threatening with HIM in the room, but obviously, she was beyond caring.

She pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth as she lowered the short little blade. It was made for sharpening pastels. She had used it countless times in her art class, and at home when working on a piece of hers. Once, when she had been feeling particularly depressed, she had retreated to the picture she had been currently outlining; a large sunflower from her mother's garden. As she sharpened the light brown pastel she had been using to get the basic shape of the flower of the paper, the blade had slipped from her hand and hit her wrist, leaving a small knick before falling to the floor. The bubble of blood that had risen from her skin had so fascinated her that she was driven to pick the blade up and make another mark, just below the first.

When she was finished, there had been a mess in the grass that she had been at a loss to clean or otherwise get rid of. That's when he had seen her. He lived in the house behind hers, but he had never seen her, nor she him. She had just thought that some old hag lived in the house with the white metal lawn furniture and the very noisy dog who lived under the porch, of all places. Her theory was partially correct; his foster mother could be considered an old hag and the mannerisms of the house's outer appearance did not exactly say "modern", but she had not calculated a reclusive teenage boy.

The hiss she emitted was low, as was the oath that followed, and he couldn't help but smile, not only as the red trail her blood was making down her arm now, but at her lacking knowledge of swear words; despite the frequency of these meetings he had thus far failed to correct that.

_Plink!_ That was the first drop in the glass, and he licked his lips in anticipation. He reached toward the glass, above which her fingers were poised, but she hit his hand with the back of her own, still holding the small blade, to stop him.

"Not yet," she said, keeping her eyes trained on the wound she had inflicted on her wrist.

He pressed his pale lips out in a pout and leaned back against the wall. She glanced at him and laughed in spite of her current position.

"I've told you before, if you want to pull a chair up beside the sink its fine," she said as her lips curled at the side with concentration.

His blond eyebrows pulled together at the center of his forehead before he spoke, "Nah, its much more hard core sitting on the edge of the tub like this."

She laughed again, before making another cut below the first, wincing as she did. The liquid was now making a constant plink into the glass cup, and he was having a hard time ignoring it, plus the sweet scent of iron in the air.

He had to keep talking, had to keep his mind off it.

"So… what's the reason this time?" he asked. This he was genuinely curious about.

There was a moment of silence, in which she made another cut, this one through the other two to make a sort of stitch looking symbol. "A boy."

He grinned and flipped his shiny blond hair to the side. "Its not me is it? I know I'm devilishly handsome bu-"

"Shut up or I'll throw this thing at you," she threatened, glancing down at the cup to find it already about a fourth full. She bit her lip and nodded, satisfied.

"Alright, it's not me," he said, looking to his side at the many bottles and things crowded around her tub. He picked up a purple Dial bottle and turned it around in his hands thoughtfully as she made another, smaller cut across the top of the long one she had made through the first two. "You use all this?"

"No," she said, gripping her arm underneath the cuts and pressing to force more blood from the wounds. "I share this bathroom with my sister."

"Younger?" he said as he glanced at a white bottle that exclaimed something about peppermints.

"No, older."

"Bummer."

"Pardon?"

"Well," he said as he set the bottle back down on the ledge. "Its my personal experience that older siblings are never a good thing."

She gulped and made another cut, diagonally across the previous one. The amount of blood in the cup was passing the halfway point relatively quickly. "Your wrong. My sister's really…"

"Oh, I've seen your sister. She makes me laugh."

"Don't make fun of her!" she yelled, suddenly forgetting what she was doing as she spun to the side to face him. Her arm hit the cup as she turned and it tipped precariously to the side, looking as if it might spill.

Two hands shot towards the cup to steady it, one his, one hers. His got there first, even though she was closer, and he glared at her out of the corner of his eye. She gulped again.

"Fine. No making fun of her."

She dragged a deep breath in through her mouth and returned to her position over the sink. _Last one…_ she thought to herself. However, as she lowered the blade to the correct place to finish the mark of her wrist, she stopped.

She turned to the side to see her companion, his hands clenching his pant legs in anticipation, his eyes wide; he was waiting for that last cut. The cup was almost full… she had to finish, for his sake.

She felt every centimeter of the blade as she pulled it across her skin. Even though she had done this so many times before, and even though she needed it, to forget for a few moments, to help her friend, the last cut never got any easier.

She was panting from holding her breath by the time the final cut was made.

When he saw her drop the blade, he was immediately at her side, his hand wrapped around the cup. He tilted his head to the side to examine the design on her forearm.

"Nice," he said, raising the cup full of deep, ruby liquid to his lips. "Your getting better."

"Nnnn… uh-huh," she managed, gripping the side of the sink and refusing to look at her arm, or any part of herself.

He tilted the cup back and took the first gulp, careful not to let any spill over the edges of his mouth. She watched him, partly fascinated, partly terrified. That was _her_ blood he was drinking. She was sustaining him by doing this. _Keeping him alive_.

Which meant she could never stop. Not anymore. Not after SHE had started this.

Suddenly, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her against his chest, lifting her wrist to his lips as he did so.

"Your slacking," he said, running tongue across her still bloody skin.

She forced herself to gulp and looked down at the floor, "Sorry."

"Something's different," he muttered against her skin. "I can tell by the-"

"Taste," she finished in a monotone. "Look, I-"

He pulled back from her skin, and she looked at her arm to see that it was already clean.

"Don't lie to me," he said, his eyes taking on a slightly wild look. "I can tell."

She was released suddenly from his arms, and hers swung limply to her sides. "Your right… This doesn't help anymore… But I-"

"Tomorrow," he said, walking around her to the sink. "Your going to talk to him."

"NO! Not yet! I can't forc-"

"Yeah, you can," he said, "I'll make sure of that."

But as he turned on the water to rinse the cup, he didn't the first of many tears slide down her cheek.

**A/N: **_Ah, how I love my ANs. XD  
Anyway, this was inspired, as said in the summary, by a particialry gory music video I watched. It's meant to be confusing, so no complaining, and if you do review, I'd appreciate no comments on HOW I write, yeah? That sort of thing just comes down to a writer's style, unless the style is downright un-understandable.  
The guy is a vampire, and his vampiric nature is loosely based off those in the Vampire Knight manga.  
Zai Jian!!!_


End file.
